The Lectrice
by Fredrica
Summary: Prologue only. Being prepared for publication. A fateful fall from a balcony at the Netherfield Ball disrupts the fledgling romance between Lizzy and Darcy. When Mrs Bennet arrives home to discover her husband has passed away, she demands Mr Darcy marry her compromised daughter. How will the Bennet ladies survive after they are dispossessed by the entail?
1. The Turning Point

**_The Lectrice_ is being prepared for publication. It should be available in the first half of 2018.**

 **Thanks to all those who left reviews. Your encouragement and constructive criticism supported me,**

 **Cheers,**

 **Fredrica.**

Elizabeth always remembered the Netherfield Ball as the turning point in her life. The day had started so well, full of promise, and ended so badly.

Granted there was that one sour note early on when she had turned down her cousin's pompous marriage proposal. Mr Collins' speech left no doubt that he was planning to display her as his betrothed at the ball. It had felt so good to prick his bubble, but she'd kept herself well in hand and been as kind as possible. Had it not been for his own self-consequence, Elizabeth thought they might have got past the incident with grace, but he'd gone off in high dudgeon to the Lucases for lunch. Thank God, dear Charlotte had been around to distract him.

Of course, Mama had not been happy. Mrs Bennet spent a good fifteen minutes screaming at Lizzy after Mr Collins' departure. _Now they would all be out in the hedgerows once their father died! How could Lizzy be so selfish? Because of the entail, Mr Collins would be the next Master of Longbourn and they must bind him to them! She should go and apologize! Explain she was nervous and mistook her feelings!_

But then Papa intervened, no doubt because the noise was disturbing him in his study. He staunchly defended Lizzy's decision to decline her cousin's offer: "He could not see his Lizzy married to such a silly wigeon. Let one of the stupider younger Bennets marry him."

Mama had gone off to coach Mary on how to capture Mr Collins' heart at the ball.

The other four Bennet sisters were then free to indulge in their preparations for the ball, unhindered by their mother's oversight. They spent hours dressing, with Kitty and Lydia racing around the house like wild animals, alternatively twittering and braying as they boasted of the inroads they had made on the hearts of several militia officers and planning their final conquest of those hearts at the ball. Mrs Bennet, ensconced with Mary, had drafted both Hill and Sarah, leaving Lizzy and Jane to prepare in peace as they might. Of course, Mrs Bennet had high hopes that her eldest daughter, Jane, would finally snare Mr Bingley at the ball and dreamed of an announcement of their engagement over supper. Their mother trusted Jane to present herself well in her golden silk without parental intervention. Staid Mary, the middle Bennet sister, was quite another matter.

Indeed, Jane's romance with Mr Charles Bingley seemed to be progressing nicely, although Elizabeth privately thought her mother's ideas of such a speedy resolution ridiculous. Nonetheless, Lizzy had never seen such a promising affair. They were both clearly smitten with each other, and Elizabeth hoped that Mr Bingley might openly declare his intentions by requesting to court Jane at the ball.

But Lizzy, too, was paying more than ordinary attention to her appearance as she dressed for the ball. She was intrigued by Mr Bingley's friend, Mr Darcy, who had begun to show more than a passing interest in herself. She had started off hating him, dismissing him as a pompous ass after the Meryton assembly where he'd insulted her as being 'not comely enough to tempt him'. Lizzy had not been disabused of her opinion at subsequent meetings with him at the Lucases' and Mrs Long's, though why Mr Darcy should choose to stare at her if he found her appearance distasteful was more than she could explain. She had worried that the closure of her gown might have failed; even asked Jane if there was a spot on the back of her dress. In the end, she concluded Mr Darcy was merely trying to _find_ fault, and had stuck her nose in the air in defiance.

Then she'd gone to Netherfield to nurse Jane after her sister's disastrous lunch invitation, and her perspective had begun to change. A note had arrived at Longbourn from Mr Bingley's two sisters soliciting only Jane's company. Mrs Bennet's glee at the particularity of the invitation was short lived when the text of Caroline's letter revealed that the gentlemen would be dining out with the militia officers in Meryton. Nonetheless, Mama seemed confident that the lunch would give Jane the perfect opportunity to fix her interest with Charles. Mrs Bennet had insisted that Jane go to Netherfield on horseback, even though it looked sure to rain. When Elizabeth noticed her mother smirking when it started pelting down not half an hour after her sister's departure, she realised it was another of Mrs Bennet's desperate stratagems to marry off one of her five daughters.

It had been no surprise when Jane stayed overnight, unable to return on her horse because of the rain. But when the eldest Miss Bennet sent a letter the next morning disclosing her consequent illness, Elizabeth had been so concerned for her sister that she was unwise enough to condemn her mother's predatory practices at the breakfast table. Mrs Bennet demanded Elizabeth go to her room as punishment. Of course, as a twenty-year old, Lizzy had thought this ridiculous, but she did not demur.

After stopping by the kitchens to request some barley water from their housekeeper, Hill, Lizzy marched straight up to the bedchamber she shared with Jane to put on her walking clothes. Without a word to her mother, she slipped out of the house once Hill had prepared the barley water and headed for Netherfield. For Jane, she would brave the odious Mr Darcy.

* * *

The right of way to Netherfield was so muddy and wet that Elizabeth had almost slipped over more than once on the three-mile walk. She'd muddied one of her palms getting over the stiles and despite her attempts to hold up her skirts, her petticoats were besmirched; especially at the back where her shoes had flicked up mud as she walked.

Of course, who should she encounter on nearing the house? but the odious man himself. She'd rounded an oak tree and nearly run slap bang into him.

"Miss Elizabeth!" he had said as he surveyed her from top to toe.

She really would have liked to have slapped him then, but Mr Darcy had gone on to offer his escort back to the house, and she managed to get her temper under control. Elizabeth had time to survey his attire as they walked towards the manor - sideways, through sloe eyes. He was wearing gaiters to protect his breeches from the damp grass but no gloves. She realised she had never seen him in anything so informal. When he periodically threw a stick for his dog to retrieve, she noticed how large his hands were, with long tapering fingers. They carried on an inconsequential conversation on the weather and, once when she'd glanced sideways at him as he spoke, she saw that he hadn't shaved. Nor was his hair pomaded. He looked far more approachable and less haughty in this more rustic state.

Elizabeth didn't see Mr Darcy again until that evening when she came down to take tea with the Bingley sisters after Jane had fallen asleep. The sisters were pleasant enough until the men walked into the room. Subsequently Louisa had asked Elizabeth if she'd finished with her teacup, and Caroline made several other pointed remarks suggesting she should return to nurse Jane, but this Elizabeth was not inclined to do - Jane was sleeping and the maid would call if Lizzy was needed. Observing that Mr Darcy had shaved and was once more in formal rig, Elizabeth immediately resolved to observe his behaviour in his own habitat.

Mr Bingley's brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, quickly laid down on the sofa to sleep off his potations while Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley warmed their coat tails in front of the fire. When Caroline suggested a game of whist, Charles had demurred, suggesting they play loo instead so Miss Elizabeth could participate. Elizabeth immediately declined, picking up a book instead.

Once the rest of the Netherfield party sat down to cards, they became quite merry. The ladies talked of the latest _on dits_ and occasionally teased their brother for making silly moves, while Mr Darcy added a few cutting remarks of his own in a light-hearted manner. Elizabeth was interested to see that Mr Darcy had a sense of humour and was far more intelligent than his friend, or indeed anyone else at the table. Lizzy became so engrossed in listening to Mr Darcy that when he very wittily insulted Mr Bingley in Latin with " _Cuilibet fatuo placet sua calva_ "*; she so far forgot herself as to give the riposte " _Cuiusvis hominis est errare, nullius nisi insipientis in errore perseverare_ "**. As no one at the card table had understood in the least what Mr Darcy had said, or Elizabeth's defence of Mr Bingley in kind, she had felt it necessary to excuse herself for her faux pas afterwards. But she'd seen Mr Darcy looking at her curiously as she left.

She avoided Mr Darcy after that. Caroline made it clear Elizabeth was unwelcome at Netherfield, and it was obviously unwise to rile a potential sister-in-law only for the sake of a little entertainment. Unfortunately, Lizzy kept running into him: once in the library when she went down to change her book; another time near the kitchens where he'd been removing his boots; and a third time, _Oh, the mortification!_ in an encounter in the hallway, when he was dressed only in his banyan. Mr Darcy's hair was wet, and it was not clear if he was wearing anything underneath the dressing gown beyond his slippers. Each time they met he launched a smart remark at her, and every time Elizabeth could not resist topping it with one of her own. Fortunately Caroline had not been present on any of these occasions and Elizabeth took herself off quickly afterwards.

Elizabeth's attempt to leave Netherfield with Jane two days after her imprudence at the whist game was thwarted by their mother, who arrived at Netherfield in the Bennet carriage only to insist that Jane not be moved until she was completely well.

Mrs Bennets's behaviour in singing Jane's praises during the ensuing morning tea had been bad enough. Although Mr Bingley had taken it well, Elizabeth could tell that Caroline and Mr Darcy were disgusted. But her mother made things infinitely worse on taking her leave when she had glanced at Mr Darcy and said in a coquettish voice: "Lizzy has been _very_ sly in going off to nurse her sister without a word to anyone, but I can see that Netherfield has other attractions besides Mr Bingley."

Mr Darcy turned immediately on his heel and stomped off down the hallway. Elizabeth also took herself off quickly, citing a need to tend Jane, and hoping that her mother would depart likewise. On retreating to the upstairs hall, she felt too agitated to immediately return to her sister, lest she blurt the whole incident into Jane's ears. After surreptitiously watching the Bennet carriage depart from an upstairs window, Lizzy grabbed her coat and bonnet and fled down the servants' stairs to run off into the long grass.

Elizabeth had run for some time, possibly half a mile, before stopping to catch her breath when she heard the frightened squeal of a horse some distance away. She looked round then, trying to spot the animal and saw how far she'd come from the house.

She had started walking back towards the manor, conscious she had gone too far. Soon after, Mr Darcy's dog appeared in front of her and gave a sharp yap. When Lizzy tried to walk round him, he growled, and after a stand-off during which he blocked her every attempt to return to the house, it occurred to Lizzy that the dog wanted her to follow it. Rather than get bitten, she decided to humour the animal. A couple of subsequent attempts to slope off towards the house resulted in her being herded back in the correct direction, and only the fact that she was getting no further from the manor house gave her any comfort. It had just occurred to her, with wry amusement, that if the dog continued to keep to their current path they might eventually circumnavigate house, when she perceived a riderless horse grazing, its reins trailing in the grass. The next moment, the dog ran over to a man laid flat on his back on the ground, and Elizabeth realised with horror that it was Mr Darcy.

Running up to him she dropped to her knees beside him and pushed the dog away, who was licking his master's face. Mr Darcy was either out cold or dead, and it was with some trepidation that Elizabeth grabbed his wrist to investigate. His hand was still warm, and sliding her finger under his glove, Lizzy was considerably relieved to feel a pulse.

"Mr Darcy! Mr Darcy!" she called, but there was no response.

She looked round in desperation, thinking she might ride the horse back to get help before noticing it was lame. Perhaps it had put its hoof in a rabbit hole and stumbled, dislodging its owner. The horse seemed completely unconcerned that it had sent its rider to grass.

"Mr Darcy! Mr Darcy!" Elizabeth pleaded, and began chafing his gloves.

Suddenly, remembering how the local apothecary, Mr Jones, had attended a fallen rider once before, Elizabeth leaned over and carefully opened one of Mr Darcy's eyelids. It looked vacant, the pupil unnaturally enlarged. The other eye was similar, although the pupil was not as large.

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed, before getting up. She had just decided to run to the house for help when the dog made it clear that this was not a option.

"You stupid dog!" she railed. "How am I to get help for your master if you will not let me go anywhere?"

Then Elizabeth had an idea. "Go get the groom!" she ordered, pointing in what she hoped was the direction of the stables.

The dog tipped its head sideways, considering; but did not move.

She thought again. "Go get Mr Bingley!" she said, pointing again.

That got more of a response. The dog gave a yap and took off through the grass.

Elizabeth turned back to Mr Darcy and began to chafe his gloves again. Then thinking better of it, she pulled off his perfectly glove, one finger at a time, and chafed his bare hand.

"Please wake up!" she moaned.

She took the other glove off and chaffed each of his hands alternately for several minutes at a time but still there was no response.

Leaning over him again, she opened his eyelids once more. _Still skew-whiff, but were they better or worse?_

Frustrated, she almost considered leaving him there, now that she'd sent that damned dog off, and running back to the house herself, when Mr Darcy spoke.

"Mother?"

Elizabeth jumped.

"Mr Darcy! You're awake! Oh, I can't tell you how relieved I am!"

"Kiss me, Mother, and I promise to go to sleep."

"I'm not your mother!" she retorted. "And I'd prefer if you stayed awake!"

"Pleeease," he wheedled in a childlike voice, and before she could escape, he had captured her hands, puckered up and pulled her towards him.

Elizabeth struggled, but Mr Darcy was too strong and as he pulled her down and levered himself up, she thought she would not escape being kissed, when he promptly fainted away again.

"Oh, dear! Now look what you've done!" Lizzy remonstrated as she extracted herself from his grasp. Secretly, she was relieved: firstly, to escape; but also, because Mr Darcy couldn't be injured too badly if he'd regained consciousness, even if he wasn't exactly _compos mentis._ Or so she comforted herself.

Then she heard Mr Darcy's dog bark again, and with considerable relief, saw Mr Bingley's top hat appear above the grass.

Elizabeth jumped up and waved. "Over here! Mr Darcy is injured!"

Bingley yelled out to someone behind him and ran towards Elizabeth. Darcy woke once more soon after, but fortunately did not confuse Elizabeth with his mother again; and she insisted he stay horizontal until he could be carried back to the house. Obviously pleased with the care she had taken of his master, Darcy's dog gave Lizzy a big lick then, which she managed to fend off with her hands. Soon after, further help arrived, and Mr Darcy was eventually transported back to the house on a hurdle retrieved from the stables.

Caroline made an incredible fuss when they reached the house, allowing Elizabeth to gratefully retire.

An hour later, the local physician arrived at Netherfield to tend Mr Darcy. After he'd gone off, assuring everyone that Mr Darcy would likely be right after a couple of days' bed rest, Elizabeth petitioned Caroline for the use of the Bingley carriage to take the Bennet sisters home, a move taken in consultation with Jane.

"I'm sure you cannot want two invalids in your house," offered Elizabeth, "and Jane must cede her place to Mr Darcy's greater need."

Caroline most graciously agreed.

* * *

*Cuilibet fatuo placet sua calva - Every fool is pleased with his folly

**Cuiusvis hominis est errare, nullius nisi insipientis in errore perseverare - Any man can make a mistake; only a fool keeps making the same one.


	2. Pretty in pink

**Aside from the works of Jane Austen, I must admit that one of my favourite books is P. D. Eastman's _Are You My Mother?_**

 **Thanks to the readers who reviewed. Yes, _Mme Fish_ , the title is quite informative, is it not?**

 **The Pinterest board is go.**

 **As always, concrit and typos welcome!**

During a period of two days when no news was heard from Netherfield, the Bennets' cousin, Mr Collins—a clergyman, arrived at Longbourn from Kent. He was a distant relative who they had never met before; but due to the entail on the estate, he now stood in line to inherit Longbourn on Mr Bennet's death as their nearest male relation.

On hearing of Mr Collins' proposed visit, Mrs Bennet had been quite adamant that their cousin would step into the house over _her ...dead ...body._ But on Mr Bennet's quietly explaining the likely meaning of the olive branch metaphor in Mr Collins' letter, she underwent an astounding change of attitude and was quite cordial to Mr Collins on his advent.

The Bennet sisters were less impressed with Mr Collins. Although tall, at thirty, he was already rotund and balding. His physical deficiencies might have been overlooked if his manner was nice, but unfortunately he succeeded in being both pompous and oily at once. Mr Bennet had not been in the room with him for half an hour before he started slaying his character with various erudite comments that went completely over the clergyman's head.

Finally Mr Bingley arrived at Longbourn to visit with his sister, Louisa. He declared Mr Darcy quite recovered, although his physicians would not let him ride, or even get in a carriage, for another week. It transpired that, in addition to the local physician who had originally attended him, the Darcy family's personal physician had been summoned from London. Charles also conveyed his sister Caroline's apologies. She had stayed behind at Netherfield to ensure Mr Darcy came to no harm in their absence. Mr Bingley was pleased to deliver the long-awaited invitation to the Netherfield Ball, generously extending it to include their visitor, Mr Collins; but eyeing this man's proprietary manner askance, Charles had then pointedly asked Jane to partner him for the first set in front of the clergyman, thus staking his claim on her affections.

Not to be outdone, Mr Collins promptly asked for Elizabeth's hand for the same set, a request that seriously alarmed her. There was no way she could politely decline.

Mr Bingley continued to call daily up to the day before the ball. It was during this most recent visit that Elizabeth learned that Mr Darcy had called his dog Cromwell because he was 'The Lord Protector'. She had laughed with Mr Bingley at that and agreed the animal was aptly named.

Unbeknownst to himself, the mysterious Mr Darcy had begun to intrigue Elizabeth. The night after she learned his dog's name, Lizzy dreamed of his accident. With a sense of déjà vu, she had arrived on the scene to find Mr Darcy stretched out on the turf; but when she leant over him to check his eyes, he opened them and grinned wolfishly at her. Mesmerised by his smile, she was unable to escape when his arms snaked round her and he drew her into a kiss.

"Lizzy, Lizzy! Wake up!"

Elizabeth opened her eyes to see her sister Jane hovering anxiously.

"What's the matter?" Lizzy asked blearily.

"Were you having a bad dream?" asked Jane. "You were groaning!"

Lizzy remembered her improper dream quite well, but she wasn't about to divulge it. "What day is it?" she asked instead.

"The Netherfield Ball!" replied Jane excitedly.

* * *

Ten hours and one failed marriage proposal later, the eldest Bennet sisters were almost ready to depart for the ball.

Jane was looking as beautiful as ever in her golden silk with her mother's pearls on her neck. Lizzy, however, was also looking stunning. She had pulled her best dress from her wardrobe: a brown silk with a lace net overdress in cream and brown, which she had fashioned from materials selected from her Uncle Gardiner's warehouse on her last trip to London. Working with her Aunt Madeleine, she had stitched the garment during her stay with them and worn it once to the theatre before her departure. Elizabeth had deemed it too fine for the Meryton Assemblies, but for the ball, she was pulling out all stops.

Of course, she knew Mr Darcy would never seriously entertain marrying someone like herself. Elizabeth Bennet had next to no dowry. While her father had preserved their mother's dowry of five thousand pounds, he had not been able to add to it over the years; the estate had barely covered the growing family's expenses - five daughters to feed and clothe, all in pursuit of the elusive son who had never eventuated. When Jane made her come out, it was decided that the money would be gambled on dowries for the girls, for it would not be sufficient to cover their living expenses as a nest egg once their father was gone. They must marry well, or as well as their charms and a small dowry could entice. But a one thousand pound dowry was beneath the touch of the likes of Mr Darcy. Charlotte had even intimated that _Miss Bingley_ was dreaming if she thought to ensnare Mr Darcy with her thirty thousand pound dowry. Apparently that was a pittance to Mr Darcy of Pemberley, who was worth more than ten thousand pounds a year.

Nonetheless, Lizzy was not daunted. She had detected Mr Darcy was not indifferent to her and it was her object to make him feel a _twinge_ of regret that he had been so hasty in his dismissal of her at the assembly. She would show him that beauty and wit could be found everywhere, _yes, even Hertfordshire!_ If she could make him look twice at her during the evening, then poetic justice would be served.

"Could you help me with this, Jane?" she asked as she drew the cameo from the box and slid it onto the brown ribbon she had purchased yesterday in Meryton.

The cameo was an owl carved from a bi-coloured stone, given to her by her Uncle Gardiner. They had spotted it in a shop window the day after he'd smuggled her into a meeting of the Royal Society, fake whiskers and all. Her uncle had thought it the perfect birthday gift for his blue-stocking niece, and Lizzy had immediately realized that it would match the dress she was making admirably.

"It looks wonderful on your graceful neck, Lizzy," said Jane, as she tied it on; "but don't you think it is a little unusual, particularly for a ball? I do wish Uncle Gardiner wouldn't encourage you to be eccentric."

"Pooh!" replied Lizzy. "No one will notice what it is, beyond noting it is a necklace; and if they do, I'll merely say it was a gift from my Great Aunt Celestina - old women are allowed to be eccentric."

Jane reluctantly agreed, but forbore to point out that their Aunt Celestina was a spinster, which was what she feared her sister would wind up as, if she was not more conformable. Together, they drew on their wraps, picked up their reticules, and exited to the upstairs hall.

They were both taken by surprise when Mary emerged from her chamber with their mother, dressed in pale pink muslin and festooned in ribbons. Lizzy recognized the dress as one of Kitty's. As with all Mrs Bennet's efforts, Mary's garb was ridiculously over the top, but Lizzy had to admit that the pink looked quite well with Mary's very dark hair that, of all the sisters, most closely resembled the colour of Mr Bennet's black mop before it had turned grey. Elizabeth realized that Mary had been hiding her light under a bushel by wearing those greys and blues that she favoured. But if Mrs Bennet had got one thing right by changing the colour of Mary's dress, she'd got another wrong with the quantity of ribbons. She'd had Hill stitch a number of them on the dress and Mary was wearing nigh on a dozen of them in her hair. Lizzy supposed such a quantity of bows might have been passable with one of Mama's robes à la polonaise and a wig but they looked frankly ridiculous combined with the more austere latest fashions. Lizzy quietly resolved to help Mary look a little less ludicrous if she could manage it.

The four of them then descended to find Kitty and Lydia bouncing up and down at the bottom of the stairs. Lydia had stuffed her oversized bust into a daringly low cut gown while Kitty was sporting an off-the-shoulder affair with tiny cap sleeves, which might have been considered a bit racy for a damsel making her debut at her first private ball.

Lizzy frowned. "Doesn't that dress need a little lace tucked into the top?" she asked her mother, indicating Lydia's décolletage.

"Nonsense!" said her mother. "Why are you wearing that owl cameo? Who wears jewellery of barnyard animals to a ball?"

"It was a present from Uncle Gardiner," replied Lizzy calmly, but mentally rolling her eyes, clearly the symbolism escaped her mother.

"I will have to speak to my brother! You are not ten! The least he could do is to give you something becoming to help you get a husband!" she scolded, before turning to her eldest daughter and smiling approvingly. "You look very well, Jane!"

"The carriage is ready, ma'am," said Mr Hill, coming in from the outside.

"Where is Mr Collins!?" demanded Mrs Bennet, eager to show off Mary.

"I believe the Lucases offered him a place in their carriage, Mama," said Lizzy.

"The Lucases? What can Mr Collins want with the Lucases? He is supposed to be visiting relatives! I'm sure we could have folded out the dickie seat!"

"Yes, but would his comb-over have survived the experience!" snorted Lydia.

Kitty tittered while Mrs Bennet hid her mouth behind her fan.

Composing herself, Mrs Bennet squeezed Mary's arm. "You will have to wait 'til the ball to captivate him, dear. Don't forget to smile!"

At that moment, Mr Bennet walked into the vestibule wearing a waistcoat and satin knee breeches, but no coat.

"Ah! There you are, Mr Bennet!" said his wife. "We are ready to depart."

"Very well," replied Mr Bennet. "Have a good time."

"Surely you jest, Mr Bennet. Are you not coming with us?"

"Alas," said Mr Bennet, "I appear to have changed my mind."

"How could you, Mr Bennet! You never accompany us anywhere!"

"Indeed, you have my apologies. I thought Netherfield could tempt me, but as the time draws near, I find the call of my study stronger. You have Mr Collins as your escort."

"He has gone with the Lucases!" cried Mrs Bennet.

"Indeed! How extraordinary of him! I suppose he thought the carriage too crowded. Give my compliments to Mr Bingley, my dear," he said; and with this valedictory speech, Mr Bennet retired to his study.

None of his daughters were particularly surprised. Lizzy and Jane called a parting good evening to their father; then, gathering their shawls about them, they followed their sisters and Mr Hill out into the night.

"Oooohhh!" fumed Mrs Bennet, before adjusting her turban in the hall mirror and following her daughters out to the carriage.


	3. The tryst on the balcony

**New readers—I** **have Pinterest boards where you can find associated illustrations. I used to have links on my profile, but sadly they don't work anymore - fanfiction seems to have introduced a pay per click model, so only links to select sites like Youtube work. Other links seem to get redirected back to the profile page. It's easiest to find the Pinterest board by googling "Fredrica Edward, Pinterest". Then you can follow the boards you are interested in to keep up to date. Thanks for pulling me up on that one, _nesciamema._**

 **To the guest who complained about 'the word'. I presume you mean "lectrice". Please check out Google's Ngram viewer. As a word, it certainly existed in books as early as 1800. As a proper noun, it is first recorded around 1839, but it would have been used in speech before that. I believe Napoleon had a Lectrice but I couldn't find this information in the public domain.**

 **Thanks _justareader_ I have changed the word order in the first paragraph of chapter 2.**

Upon arriving at Netherfield, Mr Hill descended from beside John Coachman to let down the step, and the ladies alighted. Although, by rights, it was the eldest Miss Bennet's privilege to take precedence, there was an unseemly scramble by Kitty and Lydia to be first out the door. Lydia was the victor, but Kitty managed to give her sister a push as she squeezed through the aperture ahead of her so that she missed the step.

Lydia landed on her feet like a cat, nonetheless, and twisting around, mocked her sister with a "Ha, ha!" as Kitty followed her out the door.

Disregarding this slight contretemps, the sisters were immediately once more in perfect amity and scanning for redcoats.

"There's Chamberlayne and Mr Denny," Lydia giggled excitedly at Kitty, before adding in a voice that would have carried well across the fields of Longbourn: "Yoo-Hoo! Mr Denny!"

Mr Denny, who was waiting for the some of his fellow officers to dismount by the light of the flambéaux, lifted a gloved hand in salutation.

Lydia would have picked up her skirts and run over to the junior officers, but her mother, who had followed Kitty out of the carriage, grabbed her youngest daughter's elbow and said in a very audible whisper: "They are only ensigns, Lydia! If you want pretty things, you must settle for nothing less than a captain!"

When Lizzy emerged from the carriage after Jane, she quickly saw that Mr Bingley and his sisters were manning the receiving line, but of Mr Darcy and Mr Hurst there was no sign. Last to emerge, Mary followed her sisters, stepping carefully down to avoid soiling her pale pink satin slippers.

When Mrs Bennet stopped with Jane to talk to Mr Bingley, Lizzy saw her chance to get Mary alone, and dropping back next to her sister, she whispered, "Come with me, Mary. I want to talk to you."

Smiling and curtseying at the Bingley sisters, Lizzy drew Mary past their hosts. Caroline was busy talking to Louisa behind the tip of her fan, but she managed a false smile and an inclination of her head as they passed.

Moving through the newly arrived guests still loitering in the foyer, Elizabeth enquired the direction of the ladies' retiring room of a footman before ushering Mary inside.

"Mary, what do you think of all these ribbons?" asked Elizabeth, positioning his sister in front of a mirror.

"Oh! I look terrible!" moaned Mary, "just like Kitty or Lydia!"

"No! No!" averred Lizzy. "The pink becomes you very well, but there are rather a quantity of these bows, aren't there?"

"Oh yes! But if I take any of them out, Mama is sure to be angry."

"You know," said Lizzy, "I think it is very easy for ribbons to slip out, particularly from the back. What say you, should I help them a bit?"

"Oh, yes, please!" exclaimed Mary.

Lizzy untied the ribbons in the back of Mary's hair, being careful not to disturb Sarah's deftly curled ringlets. "There!" she said, surveying her handiwork, "now I can see your beautiful black hair, and the ones in the front still form a lovely corona around your face. I think the dress would look better with a few less of them too, but I dare say Hill has attached them most securely. We had better leave them there for tonight, but perhaps you could take a few off before the next assembly."

"Oh, no!" replied Mary. "It is Kitty's dress. I am only borrowing it for tonight."

"It is a very demure dress, Mary. I do not think Kitty will be demanding it back. Now, as to the rouge on your face... Will you permit me to take a little of that off?"

"Oh, yes, please! I cannot think it becomes a young girl to wear rouge at all! And as to thinking that Mr Collins would ever look twice at me, it is quite ridiculous! Why he hasn't spared a glance at me since he arrived, being wholly taken with you and Jane!"

"Well, as we are the eldest, it is only natural that he should consider us first. But, surely, Mary, you cannot welcome Mr Collins' attention?"

"Indeed I would, Lizzy! A clergyman would suit me very well! To be able to return to Longbourn in the future would be so comfortable! And poor Mama would not have to move at all!" said Mary with uncharacteristic fervour. "But I cannot hope that he will even ask me to dance, and then Mama will be angry and say I didn't try to gain his favour, and I have not the least idea how!"

This declaration left Lizzy quite speechless, but she quickly regained her composure while rearranging Mary's shawl about her neck.

"Well, we must see if we can contrive to get him to dance with you, Mary. He asked me for the first set, but after this morning's contretemps he cannot be eager to keep the engagement. If one of the other gentleman does not ask for your hand when we return to the ballroom, keep close to me and I will see if I can arrange a substitution."

"Thank you, Lizzy," sad Mary earnestly. "But as to conversing with him, do you think it would be better to speak of Deuteronomy or Leviticus? I have been focussing my studies most recently there."

"You must not talk of the bible at all, Mary," said Lizzy, trying to think of the best advice she could give her sister and the most diplomatic way of couching it. "I expect clergymen prefer not to do so all the time. It must get quite tiring."

"Oh," replied Mary, "I never thought of it like that, but what _should_ I speak of?"

"Well," said Lizzy, thinking aloud, "he likes to talk of Lady Catherine and Rosings, so perhaps you could ask him about that; and possibly domestic matters..."

"Like the altar cloth I am stitching? I expect the symbolism of the dove and olive branch will appeal to him after his letter..."

"No symbolism, Mary. Remember, he just wants to relax and enjoy himself. Perhaps, you could tell him about the pretty colours you have chosen for the silks..."

"Oh? The colours?" said Mary, considering.

"Yes," affirmed Lizzy, "and smile and agree with him a lot. But I expect Mama has already told you this?"

Mary nodded with a sigh.

"Come now, we should get back to the ballroom, they will be striking up the first set soon. You look very pretty tonight, Mary, and if Mr Collins doesn't notice you he is a great buffoon." said Lizzy, before thinking better of it.

The sisters had no sooner opened the door to leave the retiring room when they encountered Charlotte.

"Oh, thank God, I found you, Lizzy!" said Miss Lucas. "There is something I must tell you straight away."

Lizzy indicated to Mary that she would follow her shortly, and let Charlotte pull her back into the retiring room.

"Well, of course, Charlotte," she said after the door was safely closed, "whatever has you in such a pucker?"

"Lizzy," said Charlotte, taking a deep breath, "I am engaged to Mr Collins."

"What!? Charlotte, how _could_ you?"

"Oh, dear, I knew you would think it traitorous of me, especially after he only just proposed to you this morning; but he asked me this afternoon, and well, Lizzy... It may be the only offer of marriage I will ever get."

"Oh, Charlotte! You misunderstand me. I do not think it traitorous of you, although I cannot think that Mama will feel the same way, but such a man! Surely you would be more comfortable as a spinster looking after your parents in their old age?"

"What certainty is there in that, Elizabeth? My parents may die tomorrow and then where will I be? Thrown onto the charity of one of my brothers! While I get on tolerably well with them, I cannot say the same for all their wives. At least with Mr Collins, I will be mistress of my own establishment."

"And Mistress of Longbourn eventually."

"Yes, but hopefully that day is long off. The parsonage at Rosings sounds very comfortable. I believe it will suit me comfortably."

"Very well, Charlotte," sighed Lizzy, convinced her friend was making a big mistake. "I will not argue with you; but how we will get through tonight, I do not know. Mama has just spent hours grooming Mary to catch Mr Collins' eye. If she finds out he is engaged to you she will have hysterics at the ball."

"Yes, I can understand your trepidation, Lizzy; and I have spoken to Mr Collins. He was not happy, but he has agreed to keep silent for tonight. We can decide together tomorrow how best to break the news to your mother."

"All right, but I cannot help but think..."

"Yes?"

"Do you think you could convince our cousin to at least dance once with Mary? If he does not, Mama will spend the whole ball badgering her to try harder to gain his attention."

"I see," said Charlotte, biting her lip. "Very well, I'll do what I can, but I cannot promise anything. His nose was very out of joint after your refusal, and it took all my powers of persuasion to delay him making the announcement of our betrothal 'til after the ball."

Lizzy could only think that Mr Collins had made his second proposal in a single day out of pure spite, and she could well imagine him wanting to bask in his triumph. Her estimation of him plunged even lower than it had dropped after his childish reaction to her refusal in the morning, and as she had not held him in much esteem prior to that, it was now very low indeed.

Unhappy for her friend who she felt had made a poor choice, Elizabeth returned in silence with Charlotte to the ballroom where they were immediately approached by Mr Collins. Thinking he had come to claim his dance, Elizabeth was just about to beg him to consider Mary as a partner when he pre-empted her by launching into another of his pompous speeches.

"You will understand, Miss Elizabeth, that under the circumstances, I am unable to honour my previous request for your hand for the first set," he declared, sticking his nose in the air.

Charlotte, who had expected her betrothed to honour his previous arrangement with his cousin, was considerably embarrassed by this speech, but before she could mediate, Mr Collins had grabbed her hand and dragged her away from her best friend. All Charlotte could do was cast an apologetic glance over her shoulder at Elizabeth.

"Well! His loss, I say! Miss Elizabeth, are you free for the first set?"

Turning around, Elizabeth perceived Captain Carter behind her. "Thank you, Captain. I am," she said. Then, glancing around, she spotted Mary nearby, and was about to shrug her shoulders in apology to her sister when, thankfully, she saw Mr Denny approach and ask Mary to dance.

Not a moment later, the band struck up the first notes, and with a smile to Captain Carter, Elizabeth took his gloved hand and let him lead her into the formation.

As the musicians tuned their instruments, Elizabeth saw Caroline sail regally into position at the head of the line on the arm of Mr Darcy. Caroline's dress was excessively fine, and she was wearing an expensive-looking parure that Elizabeth had no doubt would be the topic of conversation for the matrons of her mama's social set for days; but Elizabeth's attention was quickly diverted to Mr Darcy. He was dressed in a midnight black coat with a silver waistcoat, and rather than sporting satin knee breeches and stockings as she had expected, he was wearing full-length knitted pantaloons which clung to his well-muscled legs rather distractingly. Lizzy forced her attention back to her partner as the set began.

Elizabeth and Captain Carter cut a dash, and after the progression, Elizabeth danced in turn with several other officers who were next in line. She smiled and exchanged pleasant chit-chat with each of her partners during the chaines and dos-a-dos, but her mind was not grounded in her immediate occupation. Instead, she found herself sneaking glimpses at Mr Darcy and counting the number of men between him and her current partner. By this estimation, she thought it unlikely that she would end up dancing with him in the half-hour allotted to the set.

Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, Darcy was also sneaking glances at _her_ , but very cleverly doing so when her face was turned way from him. He was admiring her figure and the light and pleasing way she moved in the dance. However, he was blessed with a piece of information that Elizabeth was in ignorance of: the first set tonight would not be a half-hour set such as enjoyed by the citizens of Meryton at their monthly assemblies. As hostess, Miss Bingley had instructed the musicians to play until the progression on her group was complete, so that Caroline would finish the dance as she started it, with Darcy. As part of his group, Miss Elizabeth could not escape dancing with him. With each progression, he got closer, and after making momentary eye contact with his new partner, his mind was otherwise occupied with making and noting every novel aspect of Miss Elizabeth that his new perspective afforded - the style of her hair, the line of her neck, and finally, as they reached each other, the curve of her lips.

Those lips had kept him quite entertained during the tedium of recuperation after his fall. Confined to the house and plagued by Caroline, he kept reliving each of the smart exchanges he had shared with Miss Elizabeth during her short stay at Netherfield. He embroidered those exchanges into full length conversations, which often ended in him besting Elizabeth with some incredibly witty bon mot; but just as frequently resulted in her getting the best of him once again, after which he silenced her by kissing those lips.

As they met, Elizabeth curtseyed to him and he bowed.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue, Miss Elizabeth," he essayed as they stepped into the first chaine.

"Your thanks are unnecessary, Mr Darcy. It was your dog who came to your rescue. I was merely drafted. He is aptly named."

"I'm not so sure of that, Miss Elizabeth. As he was largely the engineer of the entire incident, I am thinking of rechristening him."

"What can you mean, Mr Darcy?" she asked in the dos-a-dos.

"Merely that he dug out a rabbit hole and caused my horse to come to grief in the first place. Unfortunately his depredations were hidden by a clump of grass. My horse is no stumbler, and I can assure you that it is only the third time in my life that I have been unseated."

"Ah!" cried Lizzy, amused that Mr Darcy felt it necessary to defend his horsemanship, "so he is the The Lord Projector!"

Darcy could not help a small smile twist his lips. His mind churned furiously for an apt retort and... they progressed.

Damnation! She bested me again! he thought as he reached his next partner.

This was Miss Goulding, the daughter of a respectable local squire who lived some ten miles away. Had she possessed three heads, she _might_ have appropriated some of Mr Darcy's attention, but unfortunately she only had one and thus was sadly neglected by him. Although Miss Goulding did not attend the Meryton assemblies, she had heard through the grapevine of the haughty Mr Darcy visiting at Netherfield Park, and could now confirm he was just as rude as common report painted him.

Mr Darcy progressed twice more before remembering his manners sufficiently to make eye contact with his subsequent partners, but he had enough presence of mind to not look back towards Miss Elizabeth. Finally he arrived back at Miss Bingley and took her off for refreshments before the beginning of the next set. As they proceeded to the punchbowl in a stately fashion, Caroline greeted her guests with condescension, dropping Darcy's name into each exchange in a way that went beyond civility and started to feel decidedly proprietary. Reaching the punchbowl, Darcy gratefully extracted his arm from Caroline's claw-like grasp when she poured their drinks. Soon after, the musicians struck up the next set, and Darcy was grateful when Miss Bingley was claimed by Mr William Goulding of Haye Park; a respectable man, who would have been well looking, were it not for his legs, which had earned him the soubriquet of 'spider shanks'.

It had been Darcy's intention to stand against a pillar in the ballroom for the rest of the evening, not being inclined to play cards with strangers or raise the expectations of any damsel by seeking her hand for a dance. But upon taking his place there, he found himself strangely dissatisfied with his plan. He would be heading back to London tomorrow, now that he had put Charles in the way of the management of his estate, and the prospect of letting Miss Elizabeth have the last word rankled.

He watched her now as she performed the quadrille, laughing with each of her partners in turn, mulling over how this country miss was making a fool of him, a man known for his clever comments at soirées. Darcy had topped all his classes at Cambridge and been Senior Wrangler in mathematics. Were it not for his inheritance he might have made a tolerable career as a university fellow. He had no doubts that he was Miss Elizabeth's intellectual superior, though for a woman she _was_ very witty. He could also see that as a woman, her social mindset put her at an advantage in verbal wordplay. He, on the other hand, had always been a man of letters.

Darcy stood there trying to convince himself that engaging her in battle was not worth his trouble, but his pride got the better of him, and he resolved to have one more tilt at besting her. He would ask her to dance. Such was his intention, but when the set finished, the crowding in the ballroom impeded Darcy's progress and he arrived at the place where he had last seen Miss Elizabeth, to find her nowhere in sight.

During the quadrille, Elizabeth had spotted her mother harassing Mary, who had failed to gain a partner for the second set. After curtseying to her partner at the completion of the set, Elizabeth had gone off post-haste to find Charlotte, hoping she had been able to further their scheme of inducing Mr Collins to dance with Mary. She discovered Miss Lucas and her betrothed near the punchbowl. Her friend quickly signed Elizabeth to keep her distance, but gave an infinitesimal nod; presumably indicating success. Lizzy then watched as Charlotte led Mr Collins to Mary's vicinity, and after offering her sister his elbow, the clergyman led her off into the dance.

Occupied with her machinations on Mary's behalf, Elizabeth had failed to gain a partner in the next set for herself, and when the musicians heralded the dancers to take their places she was moving to stand against the wall, when two men converged on her from both sides.

"Miss Elizabeth, could I request..." they started simultaneously.

Elizabeth was highly gratified to see that Mr Darcy was one of the pair, the other being Colonel Forster.

"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, hoping that one of them would retire and make her choice easy, but they both stuck out their chins pugnaciously and glared at each other.

As the richest of the two, Darcy expected the colonel to resign, and as a military man, the colonel expected the opposite.

Elizabeth appreciated this in a flash and immediately saw a way of having her cake and eating it too.

"Well, Mr Darcy, if you will permit, I will dance with the King's man in this set and you after?"

The colonel grinned in triumph.

Thus having put Mr Darcy in his place, Elizabeth accepted the colonel's arm and took to the dance floor. She had got what she wanted, Mr Darcy _had_ noticed her, and quite definitively too; and she had managed to pay him back, very poetically, for his insult at the assembly. But as she danced with the colonel she could not help noticing her heart was beating faster, and she knew it was in anticipation of dancing with Mr High in the Instep.

Darcy retreated to his pillar to watch them jealously and stew. Miss Elizabeth soon progressed, and his eyes followed her as she moved down the line. He began to prepare some witticisms to launch at her.

Finally the set finished, and seeing at least one gentleman glance in Miss Elizabeth's direction, Darcy moved to appropriate her before some other fellow muscled in.

"Miss Elizabeth, you are in demand," commented Darcy, coming up to her.

"Yes, it would appear so," she returned lightly. "Much better than sitting against the wall at the assemblies, but the militia's recent deployment to Meryton has filled the gap admirably."

Darcy briefly wondered if she was having a stab at him for his lack of participation at the only Meryton assembly he had attended, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd insulted her there. He didn't like dancing with strangers and hadn't even directed his attention at the lady Bingley had pointed out as a possible partner. Although Darcy _had_ been aware there were a number of women without partners, he thought it beneath him to be some sort of consolation prize for unwanted females, whatever Bingley's opinion of what constituted 'gentlemanly behaviour'.

Upon moving towards the dance floor, Darcy and Elizabeth were both very much surprised to hear the band strike up a waltz.

"Oh, dear," murmured Elizabeth, "I fear I do not know the steps very well. The waltz is never danced at the assemblies."

It had been on the tip of Darcy's tongue to suggest they wait out the set, but the words that actually came out of his mouth were quite different: "If you will permit me to guide you, perhaps we may manage tolerably."

The musicians launched into the distinctive three-four time and Elizabeth offered her hands in what she hoped were the correct positions. Darcy grasped her right glove in his left and placed his right hand on her upper back, while she rested her left glove on his upper arm above his elbow. Elizabeth then focused all her attention on her feet as they took the first steps.

"That is right," he assured her, "but you will find it easier if you move a little closer."

She wondered if he was being fresh but complied nonetheless and found it was true. As she stepped in the prescribed pattern, Darcy seemed to direct her movements on the dance floor. After the first minute Elizabeth felt she might dance the waltz in her sleep. It was at that point she inhaled with relief and realised that all she could smell was _him_. He exuded soap, a spicy cologne, and an earthier scent that was quite exhilarating.

"Well!" Elizabeth said as they twirled, "I did not expect to dance the waltz tonight, but I expect it is de rigeur at all the London balls."

"Indeed," he replied, "I had thought Caroline and Louisa quite decided in that only country dances would be performed, but women are always changing their minds."

"Really?" said Elizabeth archly. "Whereas men are more decisive, or perhaps, just opinionated?"

"A solid education provides a steady mind," replied Darcy urbanely.

Elizabeth flinched slightly in annoyance at this pronouncement, knowing her own education deficient, whereupon Darcy's hand dragged slightly across her back. She was disturbed to feel her stays pop open at the top. They were her best pair, slightly tighter than was comfortable, and fastened with hooks and eyes. She had forgotten they needed repair: the top hook had slipped out of the catch when she had crouched to enter the carriage after the Meryton Assembly, and Lizzy had meant to sew the hole smaller before wearing them again.

Darcy felt the slight movement in his partner's underwear and looked down just in time to see a very pleasing displacement of her décolletage.

Elizabeth noted the direction of his eyes and frowned, while furiously praying no more of the catches would fail.

He looked up and their eyes met.

"That is a very interesting cameo," he remarked suavely. "Are you a devotee of Athena?"

Elizabeth's lips involuntarily twisted into a small smile. "It is funny you should say that, my mother thought I was wearing jewellery of barnyard animals!"

Then, regretting her indiscretion, she added, "It was a present from my uncle."

"Really?" remarked Darcy. "The attorney in Meryton?"

Elizabeth looked up again, wondering that he knew so much of her relatives.

"No, my other uncle, a trader in London; he is a fellow of the Royal Society," she announced proudly.

"A trader?" Darcy repeated incredulously. "The Royal Society?"

"Yes," replied Lizzy smugly, glad she had at least some relatives who were not embarrassing; "he was elected for his invention of a new type of mechanised winch."

"What is his name?" asked Darcy.

"Mr Edward Gardiner," replied Lizzy.

"But I know of him!" replied Darcy. "I remember he was pointed out to me at a recent lecture. He had brought his nephew, who didn't look a day over fourteen, but who had the most amazing sideburns!"

Elizabeth almost burst out laughing on the spot, but managed to maintain her composure sufficiently to say very innocently, "Really?"

Darcy did not fail to notice the enigmatic smile playing on her lips.

They continued to dance, feeling strangely satisfied with each other's company, until the last bars of the waltz sounded and supper was announced.

Releasing Miss Elizabeth from his clasp, Darcy stood indecisively, unwilling to relinquish her hand. After all, he had not yet bested her in conversation. He looked with distaste at the throng pressing to get into the supper room.

"Miss Elizabeth, would you care for a stroll on the terrace?" he enquired, surprising even himself.

Swallowing a cheeky retort, Elizabeth admitted she didn't fancy standing in line at the door of the supper room. She could see several couples outside, and in their company there could be no impropriety.

Linking arms, they emerged into the moonlight and he directed her to the balustrade, putting as much distance between themselves and the other couples as possible.

Darcy looked around and noticed a gentleman smoking a cigar at the end of the terrace, "Miss Elizabeth, I was wondering..." he started.

But what he was wondering, she never knew, and he completely forgot. For upon laying her glove on the balustrade while she adjusted her shoe, Elizabeth felt the capstone suddenly slide outwards, and with a shriek she promptly tumbled after it.

Darcy made a desperate bid to grab her, but overbalanced in doing so. Had he been wearing his top boots, he might have had enough purchase to pull her up again, but unfortunately he was wearing dancing slippers and they both toppled over. He twisted on the way down to displace himself, so as to not land on top of her, before reaching the ground with a thud.


	4. The Gordian knot

**Dear, dear, after specifically asking that reviewers be courteous in their comments, we have our first anonymous post from Lady Catherine. If you don't like my stories, please don't read them. There are plenty of other good ones to choose from.**

 **Thanks to those who posted supportive or informative reviews.**

 **With regard to being accident prone, I suppose they are, but they didn't have safety standards in those days or people walking around with clipboards :)**

 **Synopsis: Walking out to the terrace at the Netherfield Ball, Lizzy and Mr Darcy fall over the balustrade.**

They had fallen a good ten feet onto the grass. Despite it being the second tumble he'd taken in a fortnight, Darcy was quite unhurt and elbowed himself up to survey Miss Elizabeth. She was lying on her back, and he could not help notice the rounded tops of her pert breasts, her white skin shining in the pale light of the moon. As he watched, her eyelids fluttered open, drawing his attention to her long eyelashes.

"Are you all right?" he asked, leaning over her with true concern.

Elizabeth opened her mouth but no sound came out. She breathed deeply and then managed, "I believe... I've just had the wind... knocked out of me."

He watched her lips form the words with fascination, and with a strange feeling of déjà vu, leaned towards them.

"Mr Darcy!" screeched Caroline from above him, making him start.

Soon after, he heard the patter of feet descending the steps and then Charles was at hand.

"Good grief, Darcy! What happened?"

"The capstone came off the balustrade and Miss Elizabeth toppled over," Darcy said. Now that Bingley had reminded him of it, he looked round for the stone, fearing for a moment that Elizabeth might have landed on it. He spotted it out of harm's way, closer to the wall. "I tried to stop her, but went over myself. I believe she is winded."

Jane now arrived on the scene with Louisa. "Oh, Lizzy," she cried. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Jane! I am fine," said Lizzy, levering herself up.

But upon attempting to stand, Elizabeth discovered she was unable to put weight on her left foot. Obviously the waltz was her last dance for that evening.

"I'll call a footman to carry her into the house," said Louisa with cold civility.

"Oh, hang the footman!" said Darcy, scooping Elizabeth up easily. "Where should I take her?"

This action may have been less chivalrous than it appeared, for Darcy was extremely embarrassed he had not managed to save them both from the fall and was keen to depart the scene.

On the terrace, he could hear Caroline calling, "Back inside! There's nothing to see! Someone who had a _little too much_ punch merely tripped on the backstairs! Supper's waiting!"

The housekeeper of Netherfield, Mrs Nicolls, emerged from the back door, and Louisa ushered Darcy through this and into the servants' stairs to avoid the milling throng above. Fortunately, as servants' stairs go, the ones at Netherfield were quite wide, but still Mr Darcy had to turn sideways to carry Elizabeth up them. As all the rooms on the ground floor were occupied with the ball, Louisa suggested taking Elizabeth up to a guest room.

After switching to the main stairs, Mr Darcy was able to carry Elizabeth more easily across his body, and Lizzy soon found herself in the chamber that she and Jane had occupied during their recent stay at Netherfield. After depositing her on the bed, Mr Darcy bowed very correctly before taking himself off to change his creased cravat and head back downstairs.

A cup of tea was procured for the patient, and after Jane reassured Mrs Hurst that she had everything she needed, Louisa took herself back to the festivities.

"Oh, Jane, please don't let me stop you from enjoying the ball! I feel very stupid to have had such an accident!"

"But what happened, Lizzy?"

"I merely leant on the wall to adjust my shoe and the capstone was not fixed in place. It slid out from under my hand, I was off-balance, and I toppled over the side."

"The balustrade is very low," replied Jane. "I remarked on it to Charles when we were out there earlier."

"Oh? _Charles_ , is it now?" Lizzy teased her sister.

Jane blushed. "Oh, Lizzy, he is everything I've ever wanted in a man! I cannot believe what is happening. It is like a fairy tale!"

"So, I am interrupting your fairy tale. Go back downstairs and enjoy yourself."

"Are you sure?" asked Jane.

"Yes, just don't forget to take me home."

Jane giggled. "Perhaps Mama will insist _you_ stay here now, and that _I_ stay to nurse you."

"Don't you dare let her!"

"Oh, no! In fact, she may not even know you fell as she was gossiping in the supper room when a footman quietly alerted Charles to your accident."

"Then don't tell her, and we will rub on very well," advised Lizzy.

"Is there anything I can do for you before I go?"

"Oh, Jane, these stays are so uncomfortable when I am lying down. Can you help me take them off?"

Jane helped peel off Lizzy's dress to the waist to remove the stays. Because of the low-cut square neck of her gown, Elizabeth was not wearing a chemise, only a petticoat, tied at the waist. Once the offending stays were removed, she was much more comfortable, and Jane refastened the back of her sister's dress.

"Anything else?"

"The pins in my hair?"

"But Lizzy! After all our work in putting it up!"

"I am sure it is half-fallen down at the back anyway, Jane; and the pins stick into me when I lay my head on the pillow!"

With a sigh, Jane complied, letting Lizzy's tresses down at the back.

"Is that all?" she asked.

"A book?" Lizzy requested timidly.

Jane might have been at a loss to fulfil this request, but she noticed a volume of _Cecilia_ , which Lizzy had been reading aloud during Jane's convalescence, was still sitting on the bedside table.

"Will this do, or did you finish it?"

"That will do nicely. I only got half-way through. Now, go!"

"Thank you," said Jane, kissing her sister; and in a rustle of silk she was out the door.

Elizabeth settled down to read with the music from the ballroom forming a pleasant accompaniment; but while her eyes followed the text down the page, her mind was definitely elsewhere. She was thinking how wonderful it had felt to be in Mr Darcy's arms, to be lifted as if she were a feather. She'd never been carried like that as an adult before. She'd been careful not to look at him as he carried her, but she could not forget the feeling of his hard chest against her arm, and his warm arms around her. If she had thought he smelt good when they waltzed together, she'd had every opportunity to appreciate his wonderful scent as he carried her upstairs, his exertions no doubt contributing to it. She'd never been that close to a man before.

Once the discomfort of her stays had been removed, Lizzy soon became aware that her ankle had begun to throb. Reaching down, she tried to untie the ribbons of her left slipper, but as bending was also rather painful, she only managed to turn the bow into a knot.

Not a quarter of an hour after Jane left, there was another knock. When Jane did not immediately appear, Elizabeth thought it might be one of the Bingley sisters, or worse, her mother; and it was with some trepidation that she bid the person enter.

She was speechless when Mr Darcy slipped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Mr Darcy!" she said, levering herself up.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "Can I get you anything?"

Elizabeth wondered where this new, solicitous Mr Darcy had come from. She noticed he was wearing a fresh cravat and had also changed his coat.

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

"Some punch?" he asked, stepping forward; his eyes roaming over the discarded stays.

"I believe I've already been accused of drinking too much of it," Elizabeth smiled.

"You heard that? I'm sorry. Caroline is a bit much sometimes."

"No matter, but you had better take yourself off before she finds you in here."

"I had to come back..." he explained as he removed his hand from behind his back.

"...I somehow ended up with this," he said, proffering the cameo.

Elizabeth's hand flew to her throat in surprise. She hadn't noticed her necklace was missing.

"Thank you," she said, accepting it.

Lizzy had no sooner done so than they heard voices in the hall. She saw Mr Darcy mouth a swear word.

Darcy knew he could not be caught alone with a lady in a bedchamber. He should have called a maid, but they were all preoccupied with the ball. Glancing around desperately, he hid behind the brocade curtain.

Lizzy quickly laid back down on the pillow.

With a peremptory knock, Louisa entered with Lizzy's mother.

"Oh, Lizzy! What have you been doing?" wailed Mrs Bennet.

"I twisted my ankle, Mama. It is nothing."

"But it is not nothing!" exclaimed Mrs Bennet. "You may have broken it! I don't think you should be moved until Mr Jones has checked it! It could be broken!"

Lizzy was keen that Mr Jones not be consulted. After his medical opinion had kept Jane at Netherfield far longer then Lizzy believed her sister's cold merited, she was fairly sure the Meryton apothecary was colluding with her mother.

"No, you see?" she said, brandishing the other foot. "It is perfectly fine."

They were interrupted when Caroline walked into the room.

"Have you seen Mr Darcy, Louisa? We are engaged for the next set."

"I believe he went to change his cravat, Caroline," replied her sister.

Caroline walked out and Elizabeth could hear her hallooing down the hall.

"Honestly, Mother, I am fine," reassured Elizabeth. "Now go enjoy yourself downstairs. Balls at Netherfield only happen once in a blue moon."

With this encouragement Mrs Bennet was swayed. "I'll come back to check on you later, dear. I'm still not convinced you should be moved. It is a pity Mr Jones is not here to give an opinion."

After the door closed behind the ladies, Mr Darcy emerged from the draperies causing Elizabeth to stifle a giggle.

"What is so amusing?" he asked, noting her chestnut tresses arrayed on the pillow.

"It is like a bad play. Your name isn't Squire Squeezem, is it?"

"Ho, ho," retorted Darcy while thinking, _Damn, she got me again!_ "That is the gratitude I get for bringing your necklace back!"

"I'm sorry. You had better go before Caroline has kittens."

"Are you sure there is nothing I can do for you before I leave? I'm only going to stand against the pillar downstairs anyway. Well..., after I've danced with Caroline."

"There is one thing..."

"Yes?"

"Would you mind removing my shoe? I should have taken it off earlier. My attempt to untie the ribbons with one hand has only knotted them."

Darcy crouched down next to the bed to examine the knot and began to pick at it. "You cannot bend over? That is not a good sign. Perhaps there is something broken?"

"I don't think so. I believe I am just sore, but I guess I will find out in a day or two when the swelling goes down. I will put some arnica on it when I get home."

"Surely that should go on sooner rather than later?" Darcy commented, still worrying the knot.

Lizzy was regretting troubling him. Clearly, only Jane's nimble fingers could deal with such a Gordian knot. She wondered how a man like Darcy managed to write with such large hands. But the next moment, she saw she had misjudged him: a loop appeared and then was enlarged. In a trice the knot had yielded, and Mr Darcy slipped off her shoe.

"Shall I remove the other?" he asked. "You can put your feet under the covers then."

"It is not necessary..." she began.

But he'd already started untying the other ribbon. Clearly Mr Darcy's question was only rhetorical.

He slipped off the second shoe and set it aside. Still holding the stockinged heel of her good foot in his warm hand, he looked up. Their eyes met and engaged for a moment before he looked down and lowered her foot to the cover.

"I'd better go," he said, just as Caroline's voice rang out again.

Miss Bingley was coming back down the hall.

Elizabeth looked slightly alarmed but Mr Darcy didn't look fazed. He got up silently and slipped into the dressing room. She heard a door click and realized Mr Darcy was going down the servants' stairs.

The door to the hall opened and Caroline stepped into the room.

"I hope you are feeling better after your little adventure?" Miss Bingley asked.

"Tolerably so," replied Elizabeth with an ease she was far from feeling.

"Have you seen Mr Darcy?" asked Caroline.

"I believe he went to change his cravat," prevaricated Elizabeth.

"Hmmph," said Caroline, retreating to the door. "His valet said he left a good ten minutes ago."

Elizabeth settled back down to read her book but she could not help wondering how often Mr Darcy slipped into and out of ladies' boudoirs, as easy as he had been with the process.

A quarter of an hour later there was another knock on the door. Elizabeth could only be glad she had not attempted to take a nap. This time it was a young maid with a tray.

The abigail put down the tray on a side-table and, with a quick curtsey, announced: "Please, ma'am, there's crab patties and cucumber sandwiches and punch; and Mr Darcy said you were wanting the arnica too."

Elizabeth thanked the maid kindly before the girl retreated and closed the door softly after herself; no doubt she was busy with the business of the ball. After partaking of her little feast, Elizabeth managed to apply some of the arnica haphazardly to her foot.

She must have drifted off sometime later, because the next thing she remembered was being woken by Jane. Rousing from her slumber, Lizzy could still hear the band playing below.

"What time is it, Jane?"

"Two in the morning, Lizzy. They are dancing the last set below, but I came up early to ease our departure. Mr Darcy expressed some doubt to Charles that you would be able to walk to the carriage."

"No, I don't think I can, Jane."

"That's all right. Charles has called for our carriage first, so after we tidy you up, Charles will summon two footmen."

With some effort on Jane's part, and a lot of discomfort on Elizabeth's, the stays were replaced.

"Oh, please don't do up the middle catches, Jane, it hurts too much."

"Very well," said her sister. "Let me twist your hair up at the back."

A respectable appearance was achieved and two footman summoned. They appeared with a sturdy carver and after Jane helped her into it, Elizabeth was spirited down the stairs like the Queen of Sheba.

Jane's timing was immaculate. The vestibule was still largely empty as the band performed a flourish to end the set. Neither of the ladies noticed Mr Darcy, who was watching their progress clandestinely from a curtained alcove.

Outside, the carriage was ready, and Jane climbed aboard to assist Lizzy inside as the footmen held the carver steady at the door.

After helping her sister settle on the bench seat, Jane climbed out again. "I'll just go back to say goodbye to Charles," she said, disappearing into the night.

Elizabeth waited patiently for what seemed like half an hour. John Coachman had to move the carriage several times to allow other vehicles to pass in the drive. Finally Lizzy heard her mother approaching, directing parting salutations left and right in an overexcited voice.

Mrs Bennet climbed ponderously into the carriage, followed by Mary and Jane, and after yet another scuffle, the two youngest Bennets. The step was put up, and they were finally on their way.

It was well past three by the time the carriage arrived at Longbourn, the occupants regaled all the way by Kitty's and Lydia's exposition of their marvellous evening.

The ladies all piled out, with Lizzy alighting last, making use of Jane's shoulder.

"How now! What is this?" said Mrs Bennet, noticing her daughter's circumscribed movements. "Your foot certainly doesn't look fine to me!"

"It has swollen a little, but I expect it will be all right in the morning," replied Lizzy.

"Oh! Did you do that when you fell off the balcony with Mr Darcy, Lizzy?" asked Lydia.

There were occasions when Lizzy had uncharitable thoughts about her youngest sister and her loud mouth, and this was one of those moments.

"Fell off the balcony?" declared Mrs Bennet. "Whatever were you doing? Was he _kissing_ you, Lizzy?"

"Mama!"

"But come now, Lizzy. This is good!" cried Mrs Bennet. "He must have changed his opinion of you! I _knew_ it! He has seen the bliss Mr Bingley is enjoying with Jane and is jealous of his friend's good fortune! _Ooh!_ Ten thousand a year! And with Mr Bingley's five thousand, who cares if Mr Collins has no taste! Though he did dance with you once, Mary!"

"Mama," objected Lizzy, "it is nothing of the sort! We were merely talking while we waited for the supper line to diminish and I slipped. Mr Darcy tried to rescue me but wasn't successful."

"Oh, come, Lizzy!" retorted her mother. "Do you really expect me to believe that? But you can tell me all about it in the morning. Lord! I am so tired!"

Mrs Bennet made her way to the front door, which was opened by Mrs Hill, dressed in her nightgown with a shawl wrapped round her shoulders. Kitty and Lydia trailed after her, suddenly enervated by thoughts of the nearness of their beds. Mary and Jane made a chair of their arms for Lizzy and brought up the rear.

"Has Mr Bennet retired yet, Hill?" asked Mrs Bennet as she mounted the steps.

"No, ma'am. He's still in the study, waiting up for you," replied Hill as she lit more candles to light the ladies to bed.

Mrs Bennet quickly forgot her yawns at this unexpected solicitude on her husband's part and made straight for Mr Bennet's refuge to share her news. Her three eldest followed her; Jane and Mary depositing Lizzy at the entrance so that she could lean against the doorpost.

"Oh! my dear Mr Bennet," Mrs Bennet exclaimed as she entered the room, "we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well she looked; and Mr Bingley couldn't take his eyes off her. I was sure that he was going to announce their engagement, but it cannot be far off! Everyone assured me so!..."

But at that point, Mrs Bennet finally noticed her husband had fallen asleep with a book in his lap and his glasses on the end of his nose.

"Oh, Mr Bennet. Do wake up! We have ever so much to tell you!" she said, and she leant over to give him a shake.

Then, with a shriek, she fainted dead away to the floor, knocking her husband's glass of port to the carpet.

"Mama!" said Jane in alarm, starting forward.

Before her daughter could reach her, Mrs Bennet revived and promptly burst into a fit of hysterics.

It was then that Jane looked at her father. "Oh dear! Lizzy..."

Ignoring the pain in her chest, Lizzy hopped towards her papa. She reached out to touch his hand. It was cold and clammy. Distraught, barely able to control her facial contortions, she looked at Jane.

The aftermath of their discovery had been painful. With the help of Hill the sisters had sedated Mrs Bennet. Mary and Jane had taken their mother to her bed and finally managed to encourage her to settle down after giving her enough laudanum to anaesthetise a horse.

After her sisters had gone off, Lizzy had sat down on the floor at her father's feet, rested her head against his knee, and cried.


	5. Chapter 5

**Synopsis: Arriving home from the ball, Kitty and Lydia take themselves off to bed, while Mrs Bennet and her other daughters seek out Mr Bennet in his study. They discover he has passed away.**

 **Thanks _ilex-ferox_ and other for their comments on the waltz. While I have done some regency dancing and some modern waltzing, I must admit I wasn't aware of the early evolution of the waltz. ****The gif on the Jane Austen Centre website was very cute. I'll have to go find a class!**

 **Thanks also to _FatPatricia515_ for pointing out the missing stockings detail. Lizzy did have stockings on when Mr Darcy undid her shoe and she removed them to put on the arnica, but it is visually important so I'll go back and change that.**

 ** _Via Luton_ is now published on Amazon. I am currently posting an "outtake" for _Via Luton_ on fanfiction (from Chapter 6 onwards). It tells the story of Ruth, also known as Genette, who was Mr Darcy's mistress at Madame Amelie's. Please read and review!**

Lizzy stifled her sobs when Hill returned to the study to report she had roused Mr Hill.

"I'm ever so sorry, Miss Elizabeth. I had no idea there was anything wrong. The squire does occasionally wait up for you, and you know he never likes to be disturbed."

"I blame myself, Hill," said Elizabeth, pulling her handkerchief from her reticule. "I noticed he had gone so far as to dress in his ball clothes, but he goes out so infrequently that I did not think it strange for him to baulk at the last moment. I think he must not have been feeling well."

"That was what Mr Hill said as soon as I told him. 'While the Master doesn't go out often, it was unusual for him to change his mind.' He suspicioned there was something wrong, but he thought it might have been that Mr Collins that kept him home, the Master not being very tolerant of silly gadgers."

Elizabeth knew she should remind Mrs Hill that 'the silly gadger' was now the Master of Longbourn, but she couldn't bring herself to speak the words. Instead she said, "I wish Papa had asked me to stay home. I would have done so gladly."

Lizzy knew this was not entirely true. She had been keen to score her petty points on Mr Darcy. It all seemed so unimportant now.

Refusing to be drawn into such maudlin thoughts, Elizabeth asked Hill how they should go about laying out her father's body. It was decided they should put Mr Bennet out on the floor immediately, lest he stiffen, and this they managed when Hill lifted the master under his armpits as Lizzy pushed the chair out from underneath him. Mr Hill arrived soon after with Sarah, carrying an old door to use as a bier and two stools to place under it. Sarah was sent to pump water so the master could be washed. Jane and Mary returned, having finally managed to settle their mother. The sisters decided that their father should be buried in his favourite waistcoat rather than the ball clothes he was wearing, and Mr Hill was sent off to retrieve his clothes. Meanwhile the ladies washed their father and, with the help of the Hills, dressed him. Finally, the black cloth Mrs Hill had retrieved to cover the bier was drawn under him.

Taking a final look at their handiwork, Elizabeth tried to imagine her father asleep, but the slack muscles of his face spoke the awful truth. All his personality seemed to have drained from his face.

The servants retired, giving the ladies their heartfelt condolences. When Mary wavered on her feet, Jane sent her sister to bed. She knew that Elizabeth, with her injured foot, was the most in need of repose, but she felt the need of her closest sister's support.

The ladies sat down at opposite sides of their father's knee desk to write some letters. By agreement, Jane directed her first note to the rector, Mr Delaney, who had been appointed by Mr Bennet's uncle before their father had even inherited Longbourn. It seemed ironic that the old man had survived the new master. Mr Delaney was too ill to preach regularly, usually delegating that role to his curate on anything other than an especial occasion like Christmas. But he did manage to shuffle from his bed everyday and sit in a chair by his fire to compose the sermons for his curate, Mr Elliot, to deliver every Sunday.

Elizabeth directed her first quick note to the undertaker in Meryton, before taking longer to compose a letter to Charlotte. Mr Collins had elected to spend what was to be the last night of his visit to Hertfordshire at Lucas Lodge, ostensibly because the Bennet's carriage was overcrowded. Lizzy begged her friend to relay the news to Mr Collins as she thought fit. No doubt he would wish to delay his return to Kent in order to attend the funeral; possibly he would arrive tomorrow and demand they leave the house. She would put nothing past the man.

After completing the letter to the rector, Jane started on her second missive, begging their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner to journey from London to Hertfordshire to support the Bennet ladies in their time of affliction. Finally all the letters were sealed and deposited on the salver, ready for John Coachman and Mr Hill to deliver them in the morning.

An hour before dawn, the sisters sought their bed and hugged each other in their sleep.

* * *

Elizabeth woke in the morning from a terrible dream, but as her thoughts crystallized in her mind, she realised that her nightmare was reality. Turning over, the pain in her chest and her leg intruded on her notice. She was unable to stifle a groan.

"Oh, Lizzy!" said Jane, starting up from the pillow. "You're awake!"

"Yes. Did you sleep, Jane?"

"Only for a couple of hours. I've been lying here trying to go back to sleep so that I wouldn't wake you. What are we going to do?"

"Beyond the funeral arrangements, I dare not think. No doubt Mr Collins will turn up today and give us some indication of our fate. I have failed you all horribly. Not only have I tossed aside the chance to keep a roof over our heads, I have annoyed him at a time when we are most dependent on his charity."

"Do not blame yourself, Lizzy. We had no idea this day would arrive so soon. I can only be glad that Mr Bingley's attention spared me from making the same decision. It is too much to sacrifice one's soul for one's family. But there is hope, Lizzy. Mr Bingley spoke to me last night, and said he would visit me today on a matter of great import..."

"Do you think it is possible he will make you an offer, Jane?"

"Oh, Lizzy, I sincerely hope so," replied her sister. "But come now, let us dress. I believe Lydia and Kitty are up."

The morning light revealed the extent of Elizabeth's hurts. Her ankle was swollen and black, and she had a matching large bruise on her left side.

More arnica was applied, and Jane laced her stays very loosely. Although Lizzy initially thought herself unable to walk at all, she discovered she could hobble about after donning a pair of sturdy walking boots.

Thus attired, the sisters repaired downstairs to discover, to their surprise, that their mother had preceded them to the breakfast parlour. Kitty and Lydia were also at table, waited on by a sleepy Sarah. Elizabeth noticed that her youngest sisters looked subdued and concluded that their mother had apprised them of events. After last night's hysterics, Elizabeth and Jane could only wonder at their mother's calm demeanour and exchanged puzzled glances.

"Well, Lizzy and Jane, I see you were busy last night," said Mrs Bennet, dipping her toast in her tea. "Thank you for making the arrangements and apprising the Gardiners. I was surprised that you should be writing to Charlotte, Lizzy, since she is on our doorstep every other day of the week; but after reading your letter, I am now in command of the facts. I must say I was concerned when Mr Collins took himself and his carpetbag off to the Lucases. Using their carriage because ours is too crowded, my foot! So he is engaged to Charlotte Lucas! Well, I hope she can be easy with her conscience, snatching him away before Mary has had her chance! I suppose she apprised you of her perfidy at the ball, or had the two of you arranged it between yourselves before that?"

Elizabeth had opened her mouth to protest at her mother's unsealing and reading of her letter, but at this accusation of conspiracy she deflated. Lizzy had expected her mother to be upset about Charlotte's disclosure of her betrothal and it did seem doubly shocking now in the light of their father's death. Meekly she said, "No, Mama. Charlotte told me last night, but I didn't want to spoil your evening."

"Well, if Mr Collins is still there, I suppose it is better that he finds out by our information than by hearsay. I only hope that Miss Lucas is a good friend to you. Aye, and to us also, for she has spent many hours under this roof. But I am determined not to think on it. It is no use... crying over... spilt milk," Mrs Bennet said haltingly.

Elizabeth, who had expected to be scolded once more for her refusal of Mr Collins, was confounded by this speech, but thankful her mother appeared to be dealing with their situation so well. Mindful of the pain in her chest, she sat down gingerly as Jane poured her a cup of tea.

Composing herself, Mrs Bennet heaved a great sigh. "We must band together and think for tomorrow, girls. Lydia has told me something more of your escapade last night, Lizzy, and as your sole surviving parent, I believe I am within my rights in asking Mr Darcy to do the right thing and marry you."

"Mother, that is ridiculous!" said Elizabeth, alarmed at this new development.

"Au contraire! Several people saw Mr Darcy manhandling you before you went over the balcony. No doubt it is the talk of the town today!"

"He was doing nothing of the sort, Mama," said Elizabeth, glaring at Kitty and Lydia who must have been the source of this gossip. "He merely tried to prevent me from falling. What a poor way to thank a gentleman for a chivalrous act!"

"Talking will pay no toll, Lizzy," retorted Mrs Bennet. "Mr Darcy has compromised you and must make things right, and so I have told him."

"Mother," said Lizzy, paling, "what have you done?"

"I have written to Mr Darcy this morning, and requested a response by this afternoon."

"Mother," said Jane, who was now looking almost as perturbed as her sister. "This is not wise. You are upset and should not act hastily. Where is the letter?"

"John Coachman took it off with the other letters for Meryton. Mr Darcy should have it by now if he is out of his bed. Hopefully all will be settled before the sun goes down."

Lizzy and Jane looked at each other in alarm, knowing there was no way to retrieve their mother's communication.

Unconsciously, Jane brought her hand to her brow, shielding her face, but this action only infuriated her mother who burst into a litany of self-justification:

"Someone has to act for our future, Jane; else we will be out in the hedgerows! Once Mr Collins asks us to remove from this house, we can only seek refuge with my sister in Meryton. My brother cannot accommodate us in London, he has only a single attic bedchamber to spare. If you and Elizabeth are creditably established, then the rest of us can squeeze into the two rooms that your Aunt Philips can offer us. That is all we can look forward to now. My five thousand pounds will provide us with no more than two hundred pounds a year, which will not even keep clothes on our backs! So you must send us as much of your pin money as you can spare, else we will be destitute! Oh, Mr Bennet, why did you have to leave us so soon!"

And having delivered this speech, Mrs Bennet's command of herself abandoned her, and she broke into loud sobs.

Jane moved to sooth their mother but Elizabeth could stand no more. Mortified by her mother's demand of Mr Darcy and repulsed by her loud wails, Lizzy abandoned her tea untasted, hobbling off as fast as she could manage to the fastness of her father's refuge.


End file.
